I Gave You Up
by someonestolemycookies
Summary: Set 5 months after the Season Finale. Francis returns to the castle to reclaim what is rightfully his-his crown, his kingdom and his wife (if she'll have him). WARNING: This does not follow the history books. Frary, Cathy (friendship), Kennash and CastleGreer.
1. Chapter 1

Set 5 months after the Season Finale. Francis returns in secret to reclaim his crown and his country, and if she'll have him, his wife. The plague is over and Lola and her baby were not immune. He spent the last few months re-organizing the villages

FRANCIS POV

Francis finally finds an opportunity to slip past her mother's guards sometime after lunch. The heat of the day has them dozing while standing and while he wishes to reprimand them for taking his mother's security so lightly, he must remain unseen and unseen means unheard.

He sneaks up on her and covers her mouth before spinning her around. He makes a shushing motion with his fingers. When she gets over her shock, she gently removes his hand from her mouth. "Francis, my son." There are tears in her eyes and they embrace.

"But what are you doing back? Mary told me—

"I would very much like to know what Mary has told you and why it makes you wonder whether I would return."

"She told me, about you and Lady Lola. Your child. Francis, you cannot have brought them here!"

"Though I carry them with me wherever I go, they are no longer here for me to bring." He waits as the full import of his words sink in.

"I'm sorry. I thought, well, we all thought that you had somehow reached them in time and escaped the horrors of the plague." Catherine rubs his arm consolingly. "But why didn't you come sooner? Why now?"

"They were well, for a time. But the village soon succumbed to the plague and though I came out unscathed, they did not share my immunity to it. I've been around the country, trying to put it back together from the ground up. It wasn't merely the surrounding villages that fell victim to the plague but the entire country. I'm surprised you didn't send someone to come looking for me." He says half-accusingly, half-hurt.

"We did, as many as we could without alerting the public of the reason behind you absence. Your story actually matches the cover we gave. Mary thought it best that our people think of your departure as an act of a king desperate to save his kingdom. She wanted you to be remembered well, and for you to be received as a hero should you have returned."

"Mary. Where is she?"

He sees the hesitation in his mother's eyes and watches as she chooses her next words carefully. "She is most likely in her rooms—she has been, tired, as of late. Running two countries is not an easy task."

She is hiding something, he can tell by the way her shoulders roll back and the clipped way she speaks.

"Take me to her." He has wasted enough time playing catch up, whatever his mother is hiding, he will find out from Mary.

She looks away and when she returns her gaze to his she seems much older than he's ever seen her. "Francis, before I do, I must tell you that you will find her much altered. Please be gentle with her."

Before he can seek clarification, she is turning on her heel and leading him down the halls. He hears the gasps and exclamations left and right but he ignores the servants, the nobles and courtiers, following his mother's lead.

"It's the King!" "Your majesty!" "He's back!"

As they near his rooms, their rooms, his mouth begins to dry and a ball has formed in the pit of his stomach. He knew from snippets in the villages that he had yet to be declared dead though there were many that believed him to be. She couldn't have remarried. No illness had reached past the castle gates thanks to her actions. Much altered. What could that possibly mean?

Francis enters her room silently, watching as Catherine tells her of his return.

"_No_-he wouldn't. Why would he?" She asks, disbelief coloring her voice, apparently horrified at the thought of his return. "Why would he turn his back on-"

Mary doesn't get to finish her question because as she stands awkwardly from her desk to look at Catherine, she realizes they are not the only ones in the room.

Panic, longing then-nothing. He can read nothing from the expression on her face, eyes blank and unfeeling. Cold. Like he warned her not to be. He doesn't realize he's spoken those words until her expression shifts.

"You left me with no choice! _You_ left. You _chose_ her, chose your child, over your country, over me." She whispers the last part and he almost thinks he'd imagined it. He almost wishes he did. But the anger he feels at her comes bubbling out and he forgets Catherine's warnings about being gentle.

"_You_ shut _me_ out! After everything we've been through you chose to lower the gates rather than wait for me!" He bites out, angry and miserable.

"How dare you?!" She breathes, looking at him with her amber eyes suddenly ablaze. She is more than angry; she is livid.

"It's true—"

"I gave you a chance! A chance to lead a normal life to be Francis, a _father_, not the king of anything! I didn't shut you out, I gave you up." Her voice breaks even as she continues with her tirade. "So don't you dare throw everything we've been through to my face because those were nothing, _are_ nothing compared to giving you up!"

MARY POV

Tilting her head defiantly she moves to go around her desk, wanting more than anything to be away from him.

His sudden gasp and Catherine's flinch make her realize her mistake. He **saw**, he _sees_.

"Mary." He says her name like he's always said it, like a prayer, like the last breath of a dying man.

AN: I used the "I gave you up" from Doctor Who (The Asylum). I own nothing. Frary forever.


	2. Chapter 2

Thank you all so much for the reviews, favorites and follows. I promise I'll try to update at least once a week. This story won't be overly long though, seven chapters at most. Enjoy!

CATHERINE

Drawing herself up, Catherine surveyed the servants and nobles gathered before her. The flickering of the torches adds a touch of austerity to her features.

"As you may all have heard by now, the King has returned."

The room filled with applause and whispers but Catherine raised an authoritative hand, effectively silencing the crowd. "He is currently enjoying a much deserved reunion with Queen Mary and they are not to be disturbed. You are, all of you, to return to your regular duties and pastimes. In a few days time we will have a celebratory feast in honor of his return and his services to France. You are dismissed."

After most of the assembly had dispersed, the Dowager Queen approached the throng of her flying ladies who had remained.

"You are to tell me every whisper, every word about the King's return. No reaction should be left unreported. Do you understand?" They nodded their assent and quickly removed themselves to perform their duties.

"Ah. Greer. Attend to me." This should be easy enough. The crowd parts as Queen Catherine strolls with Queen Mary's lady-in-waiting.

"Yes, your grace. How may I assist-?"

"You must send for Lady Kenna at once." Catherine says, lowering her voice as she issues her instructions.

"But she's still overseeing the renovations at her estate, surely, she needn't be sent for posthaste."

"This takes precedence." Catherine insists. "We cannot do anything for Mary or Francis at the moment, but we can help them deal with whatever comes of their talk after. The response must be immediate."

Greer nods and excuses herself. Clasping her hands together, Catherine surveys the castle and its inhabitants, praying as any mother would that Francis and Mary would forgive each other, and themselves. At least for the baby's sake.

FRANCIS

Francis slowly shut the door behind his mother.

Mary is _pregnant_.

Mary was pregnant _when he rode off to save her lady-in-waiting whom he had gotten pregnant_.

Mary was pregnant and he left her to play hero while _she dealt with running two countries, one of which was in a crisis, without him_.

Placing his head carefully on the door, he tried to reign in his emotions before facing his wife who had every right to hate him.

"It's yours." She says. Confused he turns to look at her.

"Of course it's mine." He replies, unsure of what prompted her to speak that way. Her face is ashen and she's wringing her hands and refusing to look at him.

"I just thought—you looked so tormented and…Bash is away. He has been ever since it was safe to leave the castle gates and he _loves_ Kenna." She is rambling and upset and he needs to stop her before she can say anymore. He takes five strides forward and before she can say more or push him away he has her face in his hands and his lips on hers.

When Francis finally releases her from his hold, his hands have found themselves on her belly.

"May I?" he whispers, still a little out of breath from their kiss. She nods and before long her dress is on the floor and he is on his knees in front of her.

She's so round already. Francis is no expert but he thinks that she must be at least six months along.

He kisses her rounded abdomen and whispers apologies onto her skin and he might have stayed that way all night but he could tell Mary wanted to talk still. Reluctantly he stands and hand Mary her dressing robe.

She looks wary as he lead her onto the bed, but Lord knows it's the one place they are most open with each other. "We'll talk, I promise." He says and she arranges herself into his arms.

For a few minutes there is only silence between us. It seems as if he should start. "You didn't wait for me." He say, removing as much hurt and accusation as he can from my delivery.

Mary tenses up beside me but he holds her firmly in place.

"I was scared." She finally says. "And angry at you for throwing my childlessness in my face. I had begun to hope that I finally was with child but I was terrified of putting your hopes up."

"That was thoughtless of me. I apologize." For a moment he thinks that she has fallen asleep but he isn't that lucky.

"Why didn't you come back?" She is not as good as hiding her hurt as he is and he feels her pain like a vise around his heart.

"I didn't know what to do… When I found her-Lola, the worst had passed and she had given birth to a daughter. She didn't want to come back to Court and I couldn't leave them, not there. So I took them to another village, and one after another those villages succumbed to the plague. Lola and the baby fell ill when we reached Lille." He falls silent after that. Unable to continue with the tale just yet.

"What was her name?"

"Lola named her Adhra right before she passed." He feels more than hears Mary's sharp intake of breath. "She said you would know the meaning. Something about a Moroccan storyteller."

"A Moroccan prince gifted my mother with a woman who was trained to tell stories. Her name was Adhra, it means apology." Mary explains. She buries her face in his chest and he knows there should be no more talking tonight.

Francis draws the blankets around them and places a kiss on her head. "Sleep. We can continue this tomorrow."

She nods and before long they fall asleep in each other's arms.

AN: Thanks again for the reviews. I hope this chapter was up to everyone's standards.


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